


2020/21 SubObi Week

by FlitShadowflame



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Armor Kink, Arranged Marriage, Bestiality, Dom/sub, Enemas, Forced Orgasm, Gangbang, Glove Kink, Humiliation, Intersex Obi-Wan Kenobi, Knotting, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Ritual Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, Watersports, Werewolf Sex, Werewolf alpha-17, in that they are in the mess hall and folks are encouraged to participate in the debauchery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28369221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlitShadowflame/pseuds/FlitShadowflame
Summary: Assorted new oneshots and snippets from longer works (snippets all previously unpublished! The longer works may be up but not to that point in the story) where Obi-Wan is a sub, per the rules of SubObi Week.All will likely be explicit, I will add warnings as I add fics where they're relevant. Not all works will be related to each other, though some may be from the same overarching universe/storyline.
Relationships: 212th Attack Battalion/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Alpha-17/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 44
Kudos: 282
Collections: SubObi Weeks





	1. Orgasm Control

**Author's Note:**

> A/N established codywan who occasionally have other vode in their bed. But this is definitely Obi-Wan’s first time with so many…

Cody had so little control of his life, this war, anything at all. So when he privately begged his general to stop taking such stupid risks with his life, he wasn’t surprised that Obi-Wan seemed to have no idea what he was talking about.

He was surprised, was  _ very _ surprised, by the general’s solution, a few days later.

“I want to apologize to you, and to the men,” Obi-Wan said seriously. He had a small box in his hands that he was turning over in what Cody would call a nervous gesture from any other natborn.

“Is that so?” Cody said blandly, determined not to make it easy. “And what are you apologizing for?”

“My actions in battle may have seemed...reckless,” Obi-Wan conceded. “I have spent most of my life working with no more than one or two others who can, well, keep up with me, and often I am solely responsible for my own safety or the completion of mission objectives. I realize that has led to a clash of leadership styles.”

“How are you going to resolve this?” Cody asked.

Obi-Wan swallowed. “I had a thought, if you’re amenable. Of some more...physical reparations than mere words could convey.” He finally opened the box.

Cody peeked, because, of course, he was meant to. It was a sex toy, the kind meant to bind a cock and keep its owner from orgasming.

“I entrust myself to your care, Commander Cody,” Obi-Wan said in a voice that barely wavered at all. “...and your discipline.”

“Will you be extending  _ this _ apology to the men as well?” Cody pressed, just to see if - yes, Obi-Wan was blushing and even squirming a little where he stood.

“I - rather thought you might like to supervise,” he murmured.

Cody allowed himself to think about it, finally. Obi-Wan, bound or held in place as vod after vod fucked him senseless, his caged cock dripping helplessly…

“That can be arranged,” Cody said with a sharp smile. “When, where, and how many?”

The general’s flush deepened. “I trust you,” was all he said.

Cody kissed him hard and decided he needed to take the edge off before he could really think about this.

“On your knees,” he said firmly. Obi-Wan sank to the floor, licking his lips in anticipation.

It was, as always, a special treat to feel the Negotiator’s silver tongue working his cock, but Cody didn’t let him control the blowjob for long. He fucked Obi-Wan’s mouth eagerly, plotting and revising his attack plan for Obi-Wan’s punishment.

He waited only a handful of days to enact his - well, “revenge” was stretching it a bit, but maybe “lesson” was appropriate. He handed Obi-Wan the cage in the morning and made it clear he would be wearing it until Cody took it off him. They had another two days and a quarter in hyperspace before they reached Coruscant, where their duties would be light in a kind of...half-leave that would end as soon as they had a new front to win. There could be no better time.

Obi-Wan didn’t protest. Cody let him go through all the phases of tension and anxiety over the course of the next few hours, but he put Obi-Wan out of his misery around midmeal. The natborns seldom ate in the main mess hall, preferring their officer’s mess. Obi-Wan was the notable exception, and so he didn’t think much of it when Cody steered them toward the common mess. Cody, as the highest ranked clone in the 3rd Systems Army, could theoretically go to the officer mess whenever he liked, but he never did, and Obi-Wan enjoyed eating with the men - and with Cody - too much to make a habit of hanging with the natborns.

Obi-Wan startled at the hand in his hair once they were inside the hall, but when Cody kissed him he relaxed...somewhat.

“Still up for this, General?” Cody asked. They had every clone’s attention.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said softly.

“Strip, then.” There was only the slightest of pauses before Obi-Wan got to the business of unfastening his belts. “Men, the general has an apology he’d like to make,” Cody said, voice pitched to carry. “Everyone is welcome to watch, but I’m sure you’ll understand that Ghost Company gets their pick first.”

There were murmurs, but no overt dissent.

Obi-Wan was naked within the minute, his flesh rippling with the slight chill of space.

Longshot was the first to approach.

“Mouth or ass?” Cody asked, taking in the pink tint to Obi-Wan’s ears with delight.

Longshot pressed his thumb against Obi-Wan’s lips and groaned at the way the general sucked the digit. “Mouth,” he said raggedly.

Cody called for a few brothers to join him, to hold Obi-Wan in place, and was eagerly obeyed. Kneeling on his discarded robes, face buried in Longshot’s groin, Obi-Wan hardly reacted when Cody started fingering his hole. The same could not be said when Boil entered him in a single smooth stroke, scarcely five minutes later.

Cody watched with satisfaction as the general -  _ his _ general - took the men’s urgent, desperate fucking without complaint. In fact, the process seemed to excite him - his caged cock was dripping precome onto his robes.

Obi-Wan was whining faintly around the third man in line for his mouth, a shiny who was practically hammering his throat. Cody signaled him to ease up a little, but Obi-Wan lunged forward urgently when the shiny tried to withdraw.

So Cody let the trooper continue as he liked, before taking a moment to cradle Obi-Wan’s chin and look into his teary eyes. “Have you learned your lesson, General?” He asked. Another trooper was still pounding away at Obi-Wan’s ass, perhaps the fourth to do so, but that hardly mattered.

Obi-Wan licked up stray come and saliva before rasping, “‘m sorry, Cody, please?”

“Are you going to to continue being a jare’la di’kut?”

“Nn - no, Commander, I’ll be good, please, just wanna - want you safe, please.”

Cody stroked Obi-Wan’s bearded cheek. “How will you keep us safe if you don’t live for us? What general could hope to replace you, could possibly care half as much?”

Obi-Wan started crying after another harsh thrust, nuzzling Cody’s hand and kissing his palm. “Please, I’ll be good. I’ll be careful.”

“Good, General.” He nodded to the vod at Obi-Wan’s back, who finished up with a few more sharp movements of his hips. Then Cody unzipped his blacks, and signed an order to the trooper holding Obi-Wan on his knees. Obi-Wan sobbed louder as the cage was removed, but he gulped down a breath and sucked Cody scarcely a moment later, committed to showing his commander a good time. “You can come after I do,” Cody told him gently, stroking his face again. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and focused, his efforts a little clumsy from the ill-use he’d endured. Cody didn’t make him wait too long, on-edge as he’d been all day - a few moments of that singular heat and he spilled in his general’s throat.

Obi-Wan trembled with his own orgasm, set off by Cody’s satiation in the Force.

A shiny brought a water pack and Cody helped his general drink, then wiped him down with his own messy tunic. “Feel free to wear as much or as little of that as you like, on your way back to quarters,” Cody murmured. “We’ll keep you well clear of the natborns.”

Obi-Wan turned another delightful shade of pink, and ended up wearing very little. Cody, of course, escorted him to his bunk.


	2. Day 2 - Mpreg/preg kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> inspired by Hero_Thief's contribution for the day, Alpha and Obi-Wan making a baby. In a fantasy world where Obi-Wan is an intersexy (sexily, not scientifically intersex) elf.
> 
> Neither of them are particularly thrilled to do this so soon after their arranged marriage (like, within an hour), much less with an audience from both courts (thanks, Jango, real nice).
> 
> So! tags for this chapter, which I will add to the work tags if/when my computer returns from the war/repair shop -
> 
> Bestiality, knotting, xenosex, xenocock, werewolf!Alpha, I changed his name to Venn (it's short for SeVennteen), Alpha is a rank, arranged marriage, public consummation/conception, ritual sex, magic and stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl this is more beasto intensive than it is preg intensive.

Obi-Wan kept a mask of serenity on his face throughout the betrothal contract negotiations...almost. 

Then Mand'alor Fett laid another obligation on the table and Obi-Wan felt his composure crack.

"The Alpha Prince of Mandalore must have a fertile spouse. You say your offspring is healthy and capable - my court mage will confirm this. The wedding is due to take place before dusk of the Wolf Moon, an ideal occasion for a fertility ritual, given my people's dual nature."

He didn't have to say more, but Mandalorians weren't known for subtlety.

"My mage will set up the ritual, with your assistance or not. But the elf will participate or the marriage and the defense compact will be void."

Obi-Wan looked desperately at his bearer and sire but they exchanged glances only with each other before nodding as one.

His fate was sealed in that nod.

* * *

Alpha Venn Fett was too disciplined to throw things when he heard the terms of the marriage contract, once he arrived home from a lengthy patrol that became a border skirmish that nearly turned into a war.

"Was there a reason for you to order my humiliation before the courts and demand I terrorize my spouse on our wedding night?" He asked, tone deceptively mild.

Mand'alor Jango Fett looked at his firstborn son critically. "You'll thank me later. The leafeater will submit to you like a good little concubine, at first. If they have any fire, they might even manage to become a true partner. But I won't have my son tiptoeing around his true nature for the delicate sensibilities of his foreign bride."

Alpha sneered.

* * *

The ceremony had been swift - an exchange of traditional Mandalorian vows and a single kiss. There were dozens of witnesses, but no officiant as was typical in an elvish wedding.

The feast held more meat than even a high holy day, but elves were not solely vegetarian as some believed. They simply did not partake in such quantities as the Mandalorians preferred.

Obi-Wan sampled each dish but only finished those without meat, to his new husband's scowl.

"You need the protein," Alpha Venn grumbled. "You're skin and bones."

"I'm sorry my appearance does not please you, husband," Obi-Wan murmured.

"You look fine. Just skinny."

"What a relief."

Alpha scowled harded. "Are you...mocking me?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you could possibly mean."

Alpha huffed in an almost-laugh before turning to speak to his second.

All too soon, the banquet was over, and the moon was rising. Obi-Wan led Alpha Venn to the chambers that had been prepared for them.

It was an old part of the palace, once used for observing fights to the death. Now it tended to be a stage for plays. Tonight it would host a sex ritual Obi-Wan still was displeased to feature in.

The shift took Venn once the moon had fully crested over the horizon. Obi-Wan forced himself to breathe evenly as he watched the beast his husband could become. The large wolf padded up to him and sniffed his armpit, then nuzzled his side.

"Hello there," Obi-Wan smiled slightly. He let Venn herd him to the bed, shucking his overrobe. He fought back the urge to shake in fear at the size of the wolf's teeth, pushed his anxiety down deep inside him and focused on his breathing as he finished stripping.

A glance up was enough to know all eyes were on him. The knowledge didn’t help one bit.

He thought back to the scant advice he’d been provided, in snippets from Venn, the Mand’alor, and a mando guard or two who’d felt sympathy for the scared young elf-prince.

Don’t meet my eyes when I’m transformed - Venn.

Roll over and spread your legs like a good bitch - Mand’alor Fett.

He’s just as unhappy with his father’s posturing, but he can’t say as much - the first guard.

Wolves aren’t very coordinated - you might need to help him mount properly - the second.

He settled on the bed, gesturing for Venn to join him. The wolf took up nearly half the bed with ease, as large as the mattress was.

Obi-Wan cozied up to the wolf’s front and stroked his belly, before fondling the furred sheath and balls. Venn grew excited quickly, snuffling and licking at Obi-Wan’s face and neck, and he managed to forget, for a time, that there was an audience, that they’d scarcely known each other a few hours, and that the expectation - almost inevitability - of this ritual was to conceive.

His world narrowed to the empathic sensation of the wolf’s simple pleasure at his touch, and his own reluctant interest in the evening’s agenda. He reached his other hand down to finger himself open, the stimulation increasing his slick production nicely. Venn scented the air for a moment before nudging his wet nose into Obi-Wan, urging him into position.

He closed his eyes. The ritual magic rose in the air, almost tangible when combined with the moon’s power. He breathed it in and almost choked on it when Venn thrust into him hard.

The wolf was an artless lover, but Obi-Wan’s experience was entirely literary in nature. His body reacted predictably to the heady combination of magic, Venn’s animal lust, and sexual stimulation.

His cock hardened, as his cunt got wetter and his breath grew short. The thrusts turned more forceful and he took to his elbows rather than hands and knees, for stability. Hot breath and a few drops of drool warmed his shoulders as the wolf fucked him. He knew he was close, so close - and then the base of Venn’s cock, already slightly bulbous, inflated even larger as his thrusts grew choppy, stuttering to a halt buried deep inside Obi-Wan, knot and all.

Obi-Wan wailed with orgasm, undignified and uncaring for the moment. His cunt squeezed the knot as ropes of cum started to fill him.

The tie lasted only a few minutes, but by the end of it Obi-Wan was hard again. He curled up in the shredded bedclothes - odd, how Venn had destroyed the sheets so thoroughly but not landed a single scratch on him - in an attempt to hide, but Venn kept licking him until he yielded, and then lapped at his cunt, balls, and cock until Obi-Wan had no choice but to come.

They were not disturbed, though Obi-Wan could sense the court filing out of the observation deck, could sense the mages tying up the spell, anchoring it to him and the dim little spark of potential inside him.

Venn mounted him again when the crowd was dispersed, and Obi-Wan struggled to know how to feel about that. Animal instinct, possessive claiming, or something else? Involuntary, premeditated?

He’d find out in the morning, he resolved. For now, he needed rest. The journey to Mandalore would begin the day after next.


	3. Somnophilia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Consent is dubious at best - Jango and Obi-Wan are in a very unequal relationship and Obi-Wan is a minor (about 16) who has spent threeish years as a slave on Bandomeer before stowing away on Jango’s ship. This is from the monster I’ve been calling Buir and Baby.
> 
> Obi-Wan, as is made clear in the story, knows Jango plans to be sexual while Obi-Wan is drugged unconscious, but doesn't know how far Jango is planning to go. And even if he said no, Jango would probably do it anyway.
> 
> Also, Jango plans a campaign of manipulation and gaslighting to get Obi-Wan to transition to female gender presentation, though he's still in very early stages of that plan at this point.

“I think I sent you the wrong message last time,” Jango hummed, once he had Obi-Wan pinned to the floor. The boy was reluctant to stop training, again, and Jango knew why. Last time he’d been this persistent, Jango had fucked him into the floor, something his knees had not thanked him for, but Obi-Wan had seemed to enjoy.

“W-what d’you mean, Alor?” Obi-Wan asked, whimpering a little at the painful submission hold Jango had him in.

“I want you to learn to  _ respect  _ your limits, which means stopping before you’re trembling too hard to continue. Quite a bit before. But you may be under the impression that this is just a way to get my attention, and that’s my fault for fucking you like this instead of, oh, tying you down and coming on you rather than letting you get any pleasure at all out of your misbehavior.”

Obi-Wan made a mournful little noise.

“There is nothing - not even pleasure, mine or yours - that is more important to me than your health and safety,” Jango said firmly. “I’m giving you a muscle relaxer once I let you up. I’ll help you to bed and then, when you’re asleep, I’ll have a nice, long wank and come on you somewhere. You’ll find out in the morning. How does that sound?”

Obi-Wan whimpered.

“Good. Maybe next time you’ll remember and stop when I tell you instead of pushing yourself like a di’kut.”

He wasn’t being entirely honest, of course. He was still going to fuck Obi-Wan for at least a while, he’d just clean up whichever hole he used carefully afterwards. Obi-Wan might even get to come from the stimulation, though he’d still be unconscious for it.

Obi-Wan tolerated the hypo without complaint, muscles still shaking a little from exertion. Jango ended up almost carrying him to bed and stripping him down as he fussed and pouted.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” Jango smirked. Obi-Wan scowled at him, but it didn’t last long. He was out within a moment of lying down, and his features quickly softened to neutrality.

Jango stripped to skin as well, stroking his cock absently as he decided what he was going to do. First, stretch that little asshole open, plug it for the interim. A quick dip in Obi-Wan’s mouth, just to get his dick wet, and then he’d go to town on his boy’s ass for a while. Come on his back?

...No, definitely his face. He wanted to make an impression, after all. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to do this  _ too  _ often, but he wouldn’t complain if he had to reinforce the lesson now and then. Sweet as Obi-Wan could be when awake, he was so... _ pliant _ in his sleep.

He slicked his fingers and readied a plug, working Obi-Wan open without fear of waking him. The drug he’d used was strong enough to keep the boy out for a solid eight hours unless he caused him actual pain, and even then he probably wouldn’t feel it enough to wake.

“Pretty baby girl,” he murmured. That was the other thing he liked about Obi-Wan when he was out cold: no fussing over the names Jango chose to use. “You have the sweetest little cunt, baby girl.” It was putting up even less resistance than usual, thanks to the muscle relaxing drug. “Just welcoming me in like I belong. So sweet.” He pet the small cock as it began to rise. “Your big fat clit is just as eager, I see. My slutty baby girl needs her man so bad, don’t you? Don’t worry, you’re gonna have me.”

He slid the plug in, delighted by the gem nestled between those pretty asscheeks. “Gorgeous,” he sighed, kissing Obi-Wan’s hipbone.

Moving to the head of the bed, he took another long look at his pretty baby girl, and rubbed his cock over that plush mouth. He watched with pleasure as Obi-Wan’s lips parted on instinct, suckling loosely on the crown of his cock. He pushed in a little deeper, thrusting in and out to get nice and wet. Some other time he might use Obi-Wan’s mouth alone, but for the first time he’d earned such a punishment? Jango wanted his ass too badly to resist.

He pulled away and lubed the rest of his shaft, not wanting to startle Obi-Wan awake by throatfucking him. The plug popped out as easily as it had gone in. “Ob’ika, my sweet, precious girl,” he sighed when he sank in. The slack walls around him were a novel experience, one he wasn’t sure he enjoyed yet. But as he started fucking Obi-Wan’s limp body he decided it did have its attractions. He could manipulate his little pet into any position he liked, even slip a finger or two in alongside his cock.

His balls started to tighten as Obi-Wan took his rough fucking without a hint of awareness or discomfort. Jango dragged himself out with a groan, tugging Obi-Wan down the bed and under his legs so he could straddle that narrow chest. He rutted a little against the smooth skin before stroking himself, pointing his cock at Obi-Wan’s still-parted lips.

“Fuck you’re so pretty, and all mine,” he moaned, spilling on Obi-Wan’s face. A good bit painted his mouth, with more on his cheeks and chin. Seeing that innocent-looking face covered in his seed was heady. After a brief moment spent cleaning Obi-Wan’s hole of stray flecks of lube and tidying up his own appearance, he settled at Obi-Wan’s side and turned him a little to curl around the boy’s back possessively. “My sweet baby girl,” he hummed, nestling his soft cock against Obi-Wan’s ass. “Maybe if you’re good I’ll fuck you in the morning, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one's complained, bless you all, but I will update the tags eventually. My desktop is in the shop right now so I'm writing everything on an iPad, lol. Have pityyy.


	4. Uniform/Armor Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Buir and Baby and all its warnings (underage, manipulative/dub-con relationship, undernegotiated kink and unsafe sexual practices, to say the least).
> 
> For context: this takes place earlier than the Somnophilia chapter - Jango has only known Obi-Wan for like, a week or two, and is getting the ex-slave a little bit more wardrobe.

“Did you get me any underwear?” Obi-Wan asked curiously when he returned to the ship.

“Sure did,” Jango hummed. “I’ll fetch it for you later, wanna get off this slimeball of a planet.” He gave an exaggerated shudder.

Obi-Wan laughed.

Later came around the time of their hyperspace jump. Buy’ce on his hip, Jango brought the little package out and tried to keep the grin off his face when he met Obi-Wan in the galley. Obi-Wan made grabby hands and Jango laughed, giving it over without a fuss.

The teen took one look at the cartoon tookas on brightly colored cotton and rolled his eyes. “Jango, you do realize I’m not a small child, right?”

Jango smirked. “Well, ‘small’ is debatable...ad’ika.”

Obi-Wan huffed. “ _ Jango _ .”

“Are you sensitive, baby boy?” Jango teased, “I know you’re not a kid,” he said more seriously. “Which is good, because I don’t fuck children. Wear the panties or don’t, Obi-Wan, that’s what was available in your size.” A lie, but not much of one - the selection had been poor in the admittedly girl-oriented shop he wandered into. He kissed Obi-Wan’s forehead, setting his helmet aside. “Besides...I want to see my little boy’s  _ little _ cock, hard and dripping, in those sweet adik’la panties with hearts and tookas on them.”

“I’m not that little!” Obi-Wan said defensively. Jango backed him into a wall, looming over his tiny pet.

“Of course not, my  _ little _ ,” he stole a kiss, “baby,” another, “boy~.” And seized Obi-Wan by the ass to lift him up and slip an armored thigh between his legs. Obi-Wan gulped.

“J-Jango, put me down…” he squirmed, pushing at him half-heartedly. Jango pinned his wrists to the wall instead of listening, and Obi-Wan wrapped his legs around Jango’s waist to get some pressure off his cock. The package of underwear fell to the floor.

“Are you gonna wear those cute panties for me, baby?” he asked. “Or...are you gonna run around without ‘em, easy access for when your man wants a fuck? Slut.”

“Hnn, Jango... _ Alor _ ...please,” Obi-Wan begged.

“Which will it be, baby? Or maybe you want to split the difference, wear panties half the time and go bare the rest?” He ground his leg up against Obi-Wan’s groin, making him moan. “If you don’t want panties, maybe I’ll just plug up your little hole, keep it stretched and slick so I can slide right in whenever I like.”

“Plug? …I don’t, don’t know, please, Alor?”

“You want me to pick for you, baby?”

Obi-Wan nodded.

“Then let’s split the difference,” Jango purred. “From now on, I want to see panties on you or a plug in your ass. Such a sweet boy.” He kissed Obi-Wan fondly, letting go of the teen’s wrists to grab his ass again. Obi-Wan clung to Jango’s shoulders and kissed back. “I want to be inside you, pretty baby,” he murmured, hiking Obi-Wan up higher so he could nuzzle the boy’s neck. Conveniently, that put Obi-Wan at the right height for Jango to rut his codpiece against Obi-Wan’s ass.

“L-like this? With your armor on?” Obi-Wan squeaked.

“Well, not  _ all  _ of it on,” Jango laughed, grinding up against Obi-Wan for emphasis. “Doesn’t have to be up against a wall, though. Could think of few things prettier than my sweet baby riding my cock while I’m dressed to kill.”

“Jango...Alor…” Obi-Wan chewed his lip. “I’ll ride you,” he said ultimately. “Up against the wall with armor seems...uncomfortable.”

Jango kissed him again before letting him down and tugging him to the small sofa, helping him out of his leggings so he didn’t trip. “Alright, baby. Let’s see you put on a show for me.”

Straddling Jango's lap, Obi-Wan slicked his fingers with the lube stashed by the couch and spread himself at Jango's expectant look, working his fingers quickly. He was so cute and shy still, blushing when he did anything vaguely sexual. Jango knew it would fade with time, but he'd enjoy it while the novelty lasted.

One of Jango’s gloved hands started unbuckling his ven’cabur, while the other rubbed lightly at Obi-Wan’s stretched rim. Obi-Wan whimpered at the sensation, the leatheris a little too stiff and dry to be pleasant.

"That's it, hold yourself open a little longer," Jango coaxed, unzipping his kute. "Now show me what you can do, baby." He resettled his hands on Obi-Wan's thighs and watched as the boy lowered himself on Jango's cock, whining at the sudden fullness. Poor baby hadn't figured out yet that he needed to use four fingers while Jango could get away with three to prep him.

Obi-Wan stayed low at first, working his hips in small motions, but Jango wasn't tolerating that behavior for very long. He slapped Obi-Wan's ass encouragingly, startling the boy into a swift jerk upward.

"S-sorry, Alor,” Obi-Wan gasped, getting the message. He rose higher, faster, rougher - gripping the beskar covering Jango’s shoulders for balance. “N...ni ceta,” he added, when Jango didn’t acknowledge the apology or the course correction.

Jango smiled. “Ori’jate, Ob’ika.”

Obi-Wan grinned back, always happy to be praised now that he trusted Jango to mean it. He rode Jango a little faster.

Only the thermoregulated kute kept Jango from overheating as Obi-Wan did his best to please. A feature he hadn’t considered, but was certainly planning to make use of again. The wicking, cooling properties banked his arousal just enough he could stay focused and not lose himself to the sensation of Obi-Wan dancing on his prick.

“Alor...gedet’ye, alor, tell me h-how...want to be good for you, please?”

Jango hummed with pleasure, sliding his gloved hands up to Obi-Wan’s hips. “You look gorgeous like this, all flushed and needy...I think you’d look even prettier trying to ride me after you cum. Can you do that, baby boy, come for me like this, or do you need your little prick rubbed first?”

“Please, Alor, gedet’ye, touch me please,” Obi-Wan begged on cue, and Jango cradled Obi-Wan’s erection in one glove easily, pressing down just enough that Obi-Wan’s efforts let him grind into the palm of the glove for a scant moment on each upswing. He keened beautifully at the rough stimulation, and only lasted for three more crests before he rutted up into Jango’s hand, coming with a soft cry of mingled pleasure and discomfort.

Jango grunted at the clench of Obi-Wan’s body in the grips of orgasm, slamming up into that tight heat a few times before he finished, too. “Good boy,” he crooned. “So good for me, little Ob’ika. Is it the armor you liked best? Or the gloves?” He brushed a gloved finger against the join of his and Obi-Wan’s bodies, making the boy whimper.

“Both, alor, both so good,” was Obi-Wan’s weak answer. “Feels so good, beskar on skin...but the gloves are so  _ rough _ , fuck.”

Jango grinned and nibbled at Obi-Wan’s neck. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ll see both armor and gloves again sometime soon.”


	5. Stockholm Syndrome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snippet from another Jangobi story, tentatively titled Abduction Seduction, where Jango kidnaps Obi-Wan to prove himself to Dooku for the Kamino job. Dooku has plans for his grandpadawan, but so does Jango…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Contains pisskink and an enema as well as a noncon handjob (with ruined orgasm) and lots of noncon touching.

Jango sponge-bathed him two more times before the feel of grease in his gradually lengthening hair became unbearable to Obi-Wan. He asked, and then begged, for a proper bath or a sonic. Jango hummed thoughtfully.

“I’ll clean you up, jet’ika,” he said.

Obi-Wan had no idea how thorough Jango intended to be. He was stripped first, then his cuffs were linked behind his back and he was pressed to his knees on a spread towel. Jango placed a spare pillow on the floor and pushed his head towards it without bothering to explain.

Obi-Wan’s pulse jumped with anxiety. The position didn’t strike him as anything he’d associate with getting cleaner, and it certainly wasn’t comfortable, not with how keyed up he was.

He couldn’t convince himself to hide in the pillow the way part of him desperately wanted to, but he was too off-balance to keep his head off it completely. He turned his head to the side and clenched his jaw.

“Shhh, jet’ika. You ever had a --- before?” The word was unfamiliar.

“What’s that mean?” He asked nervously.

“It’s a kind of internal cleansing, done before certain medical procedures. Good for the gut, as long as it’s not done too often. Not sure how to translate it in Basic. But it’ll only take about fifteen minutes, and then we’ll move on to your bath.” The cuffs on his ankles were maglocked to the metal floor and Obi-Wan fought not to hyperventilate.

Jango started to explain the process in Mando’a, and though Obi-Wan didn’t catch every word, the context made most of them clear enough, especially as Jango began to perform the ritual of...cleansing. Jango removed his vambraces and gloves, rolling up his sleeves. This did not do much beyond instil more apprehension in Obi-Wan.

There was a finger, first, lubricated with some gel, pressed into his asshole without so much as a by-your-leave. Then some kind of plug. He couldn’t see what else was done, but Jango told him - tubing, and a bag of mild cleaning solution diluted in water, set up to...fill him. It was warm, he noticed immediately. The solution was almost warm enough to be uncomfortable, except he was still so cold, naked and exposed in this chilly little cell. He welcomed the heat more than he expected to.

The plug pressed oddly inside him, and as the bag emptied and the tubing shifted, that pressure turned pleasing despite his preference to remain appalled by all this. His gut started to ache as more fluid poured in. His bladder throbbed but he was more horrified when his cock began to fill.

“You’re doing well, jet’ika, just relax,” Jango said, and Obi-Wan  _ hated _ that his body reacted to the praise, his cock hardening further. He tried to shuffle forward even though he knew, intellectually, that it was pointless. His ankles weren’t going anywhere, and his face couldn’t move the pillow, much less the rest of him.

Jango slapped his ass. “Stay still.” Obi-Wan whined, his cock dripping precome onto the towel he was kneeling on. “Poor jet’ika,” Jango tsked. “Behave and I’ll take care of that for you, once this is done.” Obi-Wan’s shoulders tightened but he didn’t respond, and Jango pinched him this time, hard, at the base of his ballsack. He yelped. “What do you say when someone offers you a favor, boy?”

“Vor entye, Jango,” Obi-Wan gasped. Even speaking felt difficult, like this - he was so full and uncomfortable.

“Better. I hate to agree with the Count, but your manners need a lot of work,” Jango said mildly.

Obi-Wan flinched as though struck, curling in on himself as his gut sloshed unpleasantly. Master Qui-Gon had said that to him more than once, _ Your manners need work,  _ when he responded to a directive with more sass than sense.

He’d hoped it was a recrimination he wouldn’t have to hear again.

“Please,” he begged, eyes clenched shut. It was a little easier, with less to focus on. He took in sharp, short breaths. “Gedet’ye, Jango, please take it out.”

“K’uu, it’s not that bad you big baby. Twelve more minutes.”

Obi-Wan whimpered. That sounded like an eternity to him right now. The fullness was barely shy of being painful on its own, but if he moved at all everything shifted and he was more aware of his colon than he ever wanted to be.

Jango’s hands rubbed his lower back and that helped, a little. Then the right hand slipped around his hips and stroked his cock and Obi-Wan trembled as the left made slow circles on his belly, passing lower with every second.

“N-no, please, please don’t,” he begged, no longer sure which hand he was more afraid of, the pressure and pain from the left or the pleasure and shame of the right.

“You don’t want to come, jet’ika?”

His head felt so muddled. “Hurts,” he managed to say, and Jango hummed.

“Let’s see if we can make it better, shall we?” He prompted,

“Hurts,” Obi-Wan repeated. Jango stroked his cock more deliberately, crooning praise in Mando’a.

“You look so good on your knees, jet’ika, presenting for me like a striil in heat. But I have plans for you tonight and none of them involve my cock, unfortunately.”

Obi-Wan’s face burned with humiliation. He didn’t  _ want _ the Mando’s cock - did he?

“N-nayc, Jango, gedet’ye,” he stumbled over the words, forgetting himself and reverting to a Sundari accent.

The hand on his cock twisted almost painfully and Jango pressed on his belly with the other. Obi-Wan cried out in alarm as his cock leaked and spurted. The orgasm wasn’t just hollow, it  _ hurt _ .

Jango kept pressing and Obi-Wan sobbed wretchedly into the pillow as he was forced to relieve himself on the towel.

“Shh, jet’ika...almost done,” Jango crooned, wiping Obi-Wan’s thighs off with a dry rag. His hands were so gentle now, in stark contrast to a mere moment ago. Obi-Wan whimpered. “Just a few more minutes.”

The fullness did seem a little diminished, but he was still sore and uncomfortable. He struggled to breathe evenly once he was done crying and sniveling, then Jango was manipulating his body again, easing him into kneeling upright and pulling the plug free.

He closed his eyes as if that would make the sensations stop, the gush and then trickle down his thighs, the sudden emptiness after unbearable fullness - that emptiness was an improvement, he reminded himself, even if he felt colder now. Jango’s bare hands were on his skin, which he was mostly aware of as patches of warmth on his arms.

“Jate, jet’ika,” Jango murmured. “Very good boy. Let’s rinse you off and then you can have a nice bath.”

The rinsewater was lukewarm (if he was being generous with the definition), but the bath itself was almost perfect, just a little hotter than he would normally like. He sank into the water with a noise like a wounded animal, and then his hands, still cuffed behind his back, were maglocked to the metal tub. He looked up in alarm, eyes landing on Jango’s buy’ce visor.

“Can’t have you getting any ideas,” Jango explained easily. He nudged Obi-Wan’s ankles and locked them to the walls of the tub as well, down at the opposite end. Then he scrubbed Obi-Wan’s chest with a soft cloth, and started reciting another legend in Mando’a. Obi-Wan let the words wash over him with the soap and the water, resigning himself to passively accepting the bath as he’d had to accept everything else Jango did to him. At least the bath was pleasant.

Maybe too pleasant. He nearly fell asleep, surrounded by warmth and comfort and able to more or less forget that he was a captive, being bathed by a near-stranger who had abducted him. The washcloth flicked over one of his nipples and he swallowed hard, painfully aware of his vulnerability. Jango’s hand sank deeper in the water, scrubbing his chest and abdomen.

Then Jango soaped up his leg and Obi-Wan relaxed a fraction. The worst bit, unexpectedly, was when Jango washed his hair. With every other part he was methodical and painstaking, but he took his time and massaged Obi-Wan’s scalp most distractingly.

He was even careful to tilt Obi-Wan’s head back before pouring a cupful of water over his hair to rinse it. The  _ care _ was harder to stomach than neglect or torment. Maybe because he was far less accustomed to being cared for.

“Stand up,” Jango ordered when Obi-Wan was clean. The cuffs unstuck from the bathtub and he stood, only for Jango to maglock each ankle to the middle of the tub instead. Jango soaped him up briskly one more time, then pulled the drain and ran the shower attachment, rinsing him off with more wonderfully warm water. He wrapped Obi-Wan in another towel and settled (locked) him in the chair again, hopefully only temporarily.

When Jango brought what looked very like a blade to Obi-Wan’s face, the Jedi froze. He had been threatened far more eloquently or creatively, but staring down mutilation was never easy.

The Mandalorian sighed as though Obi-Wan was particularly tiresome. “You need a haircut, jet’ika. And the peach fuzz is doing you no favors.” His hands - still distractingly bare - held the blade deftly and Obi-Wan recognized it as a straight razor, the common low tech solution for facial hair of various types. His needs in that sense had never been terribly significant yet, though he had been planning to grow a beard for the gravitas it would lend him as a young Jedi Knight who already had a padawan.

...not that such plans mattered anymore. Another bitter reminder that he was powerless to change his fate now, to even decide whether to grow his own facial hair.

The naked blade was a sore temptation. He could end this farce, deny Dooku whatever game he was playing…

“You don’t want to die yet, jet’ika,” Jango said conversationally, lathering a brush with shaving foam and then spreading it on Obi-Wan’s cheeks, chin, and neck. Obi-Wan startled badly at the claim, but the blade was over a foot away at the moment. The worst he got was a little shaving cream up his nose. He glared at Jango, who merely chuckled behind his visor. “You don’t. You survived this long despite all odds stacked against you. A little enforced relaxation isn’t going to break you.”

“This is not exactly what I’d call a vacation,” Obi-Wan sneered. 

“When was the last time you had a day to yourself, or even half a day, where you didn’t  _ have _ to do something?” Jango asked. The blade caressed his throat and Obi-Wan thought.

He didn’t mean to take the question so seriously, but...it was surprisingly difficult to remember the answer. Even if that wasn’t the case, Jango was being very distracting, shaving him expertly and gently.

“I don’t know,” he said after a long stretch of silence, only the rasp of the razor and its occasional dip in a basin breaking the stillness. Jango wiped the shaving cream and stray hairs away with a warm, damp towel and patted Obi-Wan’s skin with a dry one.

“You really do have a babyface,” Jango mused, letting the topic drop. “You sure you’re in your twenties?”

“Unless carbonite has an added time travel benefit...yes, I’m twenty-two.”

Jango snorted. “Time to trim that moptop, jet’ika.” He settled into a chair behind Obi-Wan and spent what felt like an hour snipping and clipping with sharp scissors, combing the shortening tresses out as he worked.

Then he rinsed Obi-Wan off again before toweling him dry.

Wherever they were, water must have been abundant. Serenno made the most sense given what he knew of Dooku, but he wouldn’t bet his life on the count being arrogant enough to keep a captive on his home planet.

Even a captive who was probably assumed dead by just about everyone who knew him.


End file.
